With A Whisper
by adevotedreader
Summary: He didn't go out with a bang, but a whisper.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

**AN: I was going to bed at 11 when this idea hit me. Blame exhaustion. First story where we don't have any pairing and it isn't humor. **

They had been hopeful at first. Jim always got himself into messes, but after sometime in sickbay he always pulled through. It was a constant on the _Enterprise._ The Captain would get hurt on an away mission, come back mostly dead, McCoy would save him, and in a couple of days he would be walking around again. It wasn't until they no longer had him that they realized how much they took him for granted.

The mission itself had gone by smoothly for once and everyone was relaxed and talking on the way back to the transporter site. It was then that things went wrong, mere feet from safety.

At the time everyone had been concerned with themselves, ensuring their own safety first. It was this preoccupation; this survival instinct that caused the confusion and the Captain's downfall. Looking back it was certain that their attackers were only after the Captain. Guilt and remorse caused them all to review those moments. Where had it all gone wrong? What could they have done differently? After going over the memory several times, even Spock had to conclude that they could have done nothing. Too many attackers, and not enough warning.

As they eliminated their assailants, the crew did head checks. Who was down? Who needed help? Was someone sneaking up behind someone else? They looked out for each other. Calling out an attack to one anther. Aiding each other when they could. The one time that they didn't see; didn't call out though, is the one that they all regretted. It had happened both in slow motion and too rapidly to comprehend. Both unbelievable and impossible to stop.

One of the warriors had come up behind Kirk while he had been fighting. Quickly, while he was distracted. The unseen attacker slammed a rock into the Captain's head. The crack reverberated around them, echoing over the land, and stopping the fighting. The last look the Kirk gave was one of pained shock before he crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Seeing that they had accomplished their task, the attackers fled while the crew rushed to their friends side.

As quickly as he could, Spock pulled the Captain into his arms and ran the remaining distance to the transporter pad with the other following quickly behind. With the undoubtedly severe head injury time was their enemy. The window where something could be done to reduce the severity of the wound was small.

Once back on the _Enterprise_ they ran to sickbay where McCoy rapidly began barking orders. Soon the away team was joined by the other senior members of the bridge crew. It was with baited breath that they all stood to hear of the fate of their captain. Although a common occurrence there was something different in the air, a sense of foreboding, but in order to preserve the idea that everything would be alright, it was ignored. Making sure that the CMO had plenty of room to maneuver they waited.

However as soon as McCoy began to examine Kirk he knew that it was too late. Both pupils were blown, indicating severe head trauma; swelling and hemorrhaging. There was nothing he could do but sit at his friends side and wait for the inevitable. At this point Kirk couldn't even feel any pain.

Seeing the doctor halt his movements, Spock enquired as to why he did not proceed when time was of the essence. His vitals still showed on the monitors and while they were reaching dangerous levels they were still there. However it was not a true question. There was only one reason for the doctor to quit now. Despite the irrefutable truth of that thought, he had to ask anyway. There was a chance that he was wrong.

Shaking his head and covering his eyes, McCoy lowered himself into a chair. His best friend was dying and their was nothing he could do about it. Chuckling in his mind he questioned his word usage. Kirk was as good as dead. No longer living, and yet still breathing. Quietly, choking back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, he explained that there was nothing he could do. All they could do now was say goodbye to the shell that had once been their friend.

Shocked, everyone stood still, absorbing the information, staring at the still breathing body of their captain. It was a reality that none of them wanted to face. He was still there and yet he wasn't. Minutes before he had been vibrant and alive, joking with them on finally having an away mission that didn't end in disaster. Now he was pale and crossing deaths door.

It was a silent and mutual decision that they would sit vigil. If there was nothing that they could do to prolong Kirk's life then they would sit with him as he died. There was no reason to leave him alone. Together in life, together in death. Sobs were stifled and goodbyes spoken. Even the normally stoic Vulcan showed his distress at Kirk's passing. It was a somber party that waited; resigned.

As the minutes went by Kirk's respirations grew shallower, and less frequent as his body recognized that such processes were no longer needed. His friends watching on, James Tiberius Kirk took his last breath.

Turning off the shrill alarm McCoy closed his eyelids and covered him with a sheet. Face turned skywards he uttered a prayer for his fallen friend. It was tragic that he had died like this. Meaningless. For a man who had been so bright and vibrant in life it seemed almost an insult to go in such a manner. A force of nature while alive. A sun around which others orbited around, and yet he didn't go out with a bang, but a whisper.

**AN: I went for angst and I think that I got melodramatic and cliché. Goes to show what happens when you write at 11 o'clock at night. Please review and tell me what you think.**


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